


Shall We Dance?

by Windian



Category: Tales of Graces
Genre: "You're jealous aren't you?", Drabble, M/M, for the prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-29
Updated: 2016-12-29
Packaged: 2018-09-13 06:49:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9111283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Windian/pseuds/Windian
Summary: "Asbel’s always told himself he’s happy enough just being with Richard. At first the secrecy had even been exciting. Yet now, watching Richard stopped, again, for another dance, the feeling is butter over bread: quickly becoming much too thin. He reaches out for another fancy canapé, to smother the bitter taste of his jealousy in mascarpone and prosciutto."





	

**Author's Note:**

> just a small drabble written for a tumblr prompt!! this was originally the inspiration for a longer fic I wrote this year: http://archiveofourown.org/works/9068395

“Asbel, you have your sad face on. What’s wrong?” asks Sophie.

For the first anniversary of Richard’s coronation, a great ball is held. Nobility attend from all over the land, and further.

“Nothing. Everything’s fine, Sophie,” Asbel says.

Everyone and their uncle seems to want to shake Richard’s hand. _Everything is fine_ , Asbel says, but Sophie follows the line of his eyes to where Richard is dancing with a noblewoman from Strahta.

“Oh,” she says. “Why don’t you ask Richard to dance, Asbel?”

All evening, he’s watched Richard be passed around from noblewoman to noblewoman, seeking the handsome young king’s attention. It’s bad etiquette to turn down a lady’s request for a dance, and yet…

“I can’t,” Asbel says, leaning back against the pillar. “Two guys can’t dance together at these sorts of events, Sophie.”

So instead, he’s just been hanging out here by the hors d’oeuvres, trying to figure out how early he can leave without seeming rude.

Sophie puzzles this one out. “Why?”

He sighs. “Because these kind of events just have a bunch of dumb old rules. You could ask me for a dance and it’d be fine. Some lady Richard doesn’t even know can ask him, and if he turns her down it’s considered disrespectful. But I can’t.”

Asbel’s always told himself he’s happy enough just being with Richard. At first the secrecy had even been exciting. Yet now, watching Richard stopped, again, for another dance, the feeling is butter over bread: quickly becoming much too thin. He reaches out for another fancy canapé, to smother the bitter taste of his jealousy in mascarpone and prosciutto.

“You can dance with me, Asbel,” Sophie says.

“It’s okay, Sophie,” he says with a sigh.

“No it’s not. You have to,  Asbel. You just told me it’s the rules.” Her arms are folded across her chest, but she’s smiling.

 _Wait–_ “Well. You got me there,” he says.

She reaches out her hand. “Richard will be happier, too, if he sees you’re having fun.”

Sometimes Asbel has to stop and wonder when Sophie got so much smarter than him. For the first time all evening, he even manages a small, but real smile.

“Then, milady, I would be honoured,” he says, as he takes her hand.


End file.
